20 Questions and a bagel
by ScapeArtist
Summary: Hook and Henry have a conversation while waiting for Emma


_Knock knock knock_

Hook leans toward the closed door of the room Emma rented at Granny's and calls out, "Emma, it's me."

He hears a lock slide and then the door opens to reveal Henry standing there, looking up at Hook expectantly.

"Morning, young sir," Hook greets him with a smile and a nod. "Is your mum about?"

"She said she was going to follow up on a lead and that I should wait here with you until she gets back. So...come on in, I guess," Henry shrugs and moves out of the way to let Hook by.

"Thank you."

Henry closes the door behind Hook and walks over to the small coffee table in front of the couch he had been sitting at. There are bags and napkins and cups strewn about the surface and Henry points at a lumpy bag. "Wanna bagel? They aren't as good as the ones we have at home, but they're better than nothing."

"I am feeling a bit peckish. Thank you, lad." Hook sits down on the couch and picks up the bag, peering into it. It smells heavenly—the scent of cinnamon most prevalent—and the bread is still slightly warm. He grabs the first one he can reach and pulls it out, sniffing it with his eyes half closed. It's been far too long since he's had sweets of any kind.

"I've had a few already, so take what you want. Mom said she'd be back soon." Henry flops down on the other end of the couch and observes Hook.

"A few? You _are_ a growing boy," Hook laughs. He can almost remember those days aboard ship, when he was a teenager and always hungry. He would take on the responsibilities of some of his shipmates in exchange for a portion of their food ration. They always thought they were getting the better end of the deal, but he was the only one who went to bed with a full belly.

Henry beams at Hook. "Yeah, Mom keeps telling me she's going to have to take on a second job or marry a millionaire just to feed me."

Hook nods at Henry, looking impressed. "I should think."

"Can I ask you a question?" Henry tilts his head in much the same way Emma does when she's got something on her mind.

Hook swallows a bite of his bagel and says, "Of course, lad. Fire away."

Gesturing toward Hook's gloved hand Henry asks, "That's a fake hand, right?"

"Aye. 'Tis," Hook acknowledges with a dull thump or two of it on the table top.

"How did you lose it?"

Hook raises an eyebrow and shoots back, "Curious little bugger aren't you?"

Henry gives a satisfied smile with a "Yup."

Sitting back into the couch, Hook raises his fake hand and looks at it. "I lost it wrestling with a crocodile," he confides.

"Oh, come on!" Henry cries. He rolls his eyes at Hook and shakes his head at him. "Tell me the truth! I'm not a kid."

Leaning forward in Henry's direction, Hook rests his elbows on his thighs. He looks seriously at Henry and says, "It happened at sea. It was rather gruesome and if I tell you any more, and cause you nightmares, your mother will have my other hand. It's a tale for another time, lad."

"Fine," Henry sighs. He sits back and picks up the book he had been reading and flips through the pages.

Hook continues munching on his cinnamon-raisin bagel wondering how long he will have to deflect questions from Henry so he doesn't get himself into trouble with Emma. He wants more than anything for the boy to remember but it is not his call, nor does he have the means to make it happen anymore.

"Sooo...Killian." Henry interrupts Hook's thoughts. "You've worked with my Mom before, haven't you?" he asks.

"What makes you say that?" Hook asks, genuinely curious how Henry came to that conclusion.

He shrugs and purses his lips together in thought before answering. "She just seems...familiar with you, I guess"

"In what way?"

Putting his book back down on the table, Henry admits, "For one, she's never left me alone with a client before."

Hook nods. "Fair point," he says without surprise. He can't imagine Emma leaving Henry alone with many people in any world. He was already humbled that she had given him the responsibility of looking after Henry last night, let alone this morning—he didn't realize Henry recognized the importance of it too.

"She is also more relaxed...or something...around you. Well, less on edge, I guess," Henry says, looking thoughtful.

Hook is cautious with his answer, not wanting to lead the discussion. "I see," he responds, noncommittally, and takes another bite of the bread.

"I can tell she likes you. In her own way."

Hook stops chewing for a moment and looks at Henry with wider eyes than he means to have. He's completely caught off-guard by Henry's assessment of his mother because he's doubtful she's made the same leap yet. He swallows thickly and clears his throat. "Oh, really? I'll just have to take your word for it."

"You like her too."

"When she's not yelling at me," Hook mumbles almost to himself.

Henry looks at Hook as if he's waiting for him to say something else, but because he's so lost in thought about Emma, he forgets the question Henry originally had asked him. Henry huffs and reminds him. "So, have you? Worked together?"

Hook nods. "Aye. A couple of times."

"Funny, she's never mentioned you before."

"It was a while ago," Hook says, looking down at the floor. _It was too long ago_, he thinks.

Henry perks up. "What were the cases?" he asks, the excitement of hearing stories about his mother lighting up his face. He's got the same open smile his father had when he was young, and it pulls at Hook's heart.

He tries to condense their trip to Neverland and up the beanstalk into as general a description as possible, so not to raise any red flags later with Emma. "Well, uhm, one was an abduction. And the other was...stolen property."

"Did she catch the perps?"

Hook gives Henry a broad, proud smile. "Aye, that she did. Your mother is very good at what she does. She's a hero to many even though she doesn't like to admit it."

That answer seems to satisfy Henry for the time being, but apparently he isn't done questioning Hook. "What do you do, Killian? Are you a bail bondsperson like my mom or are you some sort of eccentric billionaire like Batman? You do seem to like a lot of black clothes..."

Hook looks at Henry completely baffled. "Batman?...No. I'm neither of those things. I, uh, find things. Mainly. People sometimes. Used to be a navigator back when I was in the Navy."

"If you find things, why do you need my mom's help?" Henry asks.

"Because we make a good team." Emma answers, leaning against the door jam, her arms crossed, looking at the two of them. She catches Hook's gaze and smiles warmly at him.

Hook can feel the heat rising into his face at her words. "Aye, that we do, Swan."

Emma walks over to the table and scavenges through the bags. She finds a blueberry bagel and picks up a cup of coffee and glances again at Killian who hasn't taken his eyes off her since she interrupted his conversation with Henry.

She straightens up and looks at him thoughtfully. "Couldn't have closed those cases without Killian's help. And there's no one else I trust more in a tight spot."

Walking to the closet, bagel clenched between her teeth, Emma reaches in and grabs Henry's coat and tosses it to him. "Time to go, kiddo. We've got stuff to do." The boy—gaining height on his mother every day—shrugs into his coat and adjusts his scarf then walks out the door with Hook not far behind him.

Hook stops midway through the doorway and turns to face Emma. "Swan?" She raises her eyebrows in response, small smile playing across her lips. He reaches over with his hand and adjusts the collar of her jacket, giving her a sincere smile. "Thank you," he says.


End file.
